


time is still ours to spend

by ednae



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Morning After, i have a few feelings about papas, maybe one or two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 17:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18529309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ednae/pseuds/ednae
Summary: Nothing has changed, he reminds himself while Otoharu breathes in and out, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that steadies Sousuke’s racing heartbeat. They’re still rivals, he insists as Otoharu reaches out and laces their fingers together, somehow pulling Sousuke closer to him than before. Even if he wanted something different, they’re still professionals, and they can’t be together.He presses gentle lips in between Otoharu’s shoulder blades and smiles into the shudder that runs down his spine.





	time is still ours to spend

**Author's Note:**

> it's me again
> 
> i jjust have dfelings you know??? i jsut have feeligns

The morning after, perhaps, is the time to regret. It’s a time to reflect on poor decisions and wallow in self-pity about all the things he shouldn’t have done the night before.

He can’t muster up that regret right now, even if it’s been so easy in the past. And there are so many things he regrets.

But Otoharu’s skin is soft under his fingertips, and it’s comfortably warm with their bodies pressed against each other, and he keeps tracing patterns across his arm even while he tells himself that this is the man he’s been fighting against for years. He knows he shouldn’t be here, and still he doesn’t regret.

“You’re still here,” comes the groggy voice under him, and Sousuke didn’t realize that Otoharu was awake. His voice, quiet and sleepy, is filled with wonder, as if he can’t believe that someone like Sousuke would be here, next to him.

“Seems that way,” he replies. His glasses are missing, so there’s nothing stopping him from burying his face into Otoharu’s back except for his own pride. He does it anyway.

Nothing has changed, he reminds himself while Otoharu breathes in and out, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that steadies Sousuke’s racing heartbeat. They’re still rivals, he insists as Otoharu reaches out and laces their fingers together, somehow pulling Sousuke closer to him than before. Even if he wanted something different, they’re still professionals, and they can’t be together.

He presses gentle lips in between Otoharu’s shoulder blades and smiles into the shudder that runs down his spine.

He had thought Otoharu was in the way, that he was the obstacle preventing him from succeeding, that without him in his life he’d have everything he wanted—that he’d have Musubi.

Otoharu’s legs are tangled in his and they lay flush against each other and Sousuke realizes he’d been wrong. He doesn’t want to admit it out loud, not yet, because the morning is warm and quiet and he doesn’t want to pop the bubble that will send them crashing back into reality.

And he’s far from ready for that. Because once they get up, once they put their wrinkled clothes on, their world will go back to normal. They’ll fix each other’s ties and straighten each other’s shirts and make sure each button is properly fastened, and then they’ll walk away from each other as if nothing happened.

And so they stay there in the bed, Sousuke’s breath tickling Otoharu’s back. Because what they want is something they can’t have. Not in public, not when they are who they are.

“Do you want breakfast?” There’s a hesitation in Otoharu’s voice, and Sousuke understands.

“No.” The meaning comes through, and Otoharu relaxes again, falling back into Sousuke’s arms as if there’s any possible way for them to get closer.

“Do you regret it?” Otoharu asks, and Sousuke can feel the dreaminess of the morning lift as they both wake up.

“No,” he repeats. There’s no need to mince words.

“Would you do it again?”

It’s an invitation, but not one Sousuke knows how to answer. He would, in a heartbeat. Because no matter how much he wants to regret, he doesn’t. Because no matter what reasons he comes up with, he’s not dissuaded. 

It’s the way Otoharu’s rough, masculine fingers fit between his. It’s the way he can hear the smile in Otoharu’s voice even though he can’t even see his face. It’s the way Otoharu breathed his name last night, the world spinning around them faster and faster until it disappeared altogether.

There is no logic in feelings; he understands this now. “Yes.”

“I’m glad.” Otoharu falls silent, but his breaths are steady and Sousuke stills his own to listen. There’s nothing more to discuss, and so they take this moment to simply be.

They can’t stay like this forever, but the future feels so far away when he’s seeing in rosy hues, the steady beat of Otoharu’s heart the only sound he can hear.

He wonders what tomorrow will bring, if he’ll be able to look at Otoharu and not remember everything that’s happened. If he’ll be able to stand in his presence and not melt, keep his icy walls up around him and march around as President Yaotome of Yaotome Productions and not Sousuke, whose name fell in short breaths off Otoharu’s tongue.

“Can I kiss you?”

His voice seems too loud in this serene calm, as if he’s shattering the shelter they’ve built up around them. But he doesn’t waver, and he doesn’t take it back.

“Do you have to ask?” Otoharu replies.

Sousuke’s heartbeat is heavy and slow, his breaths choppy as he presses his lips into Otoharu’s back, trailing tiny kisses down his spine. Otoharu rolls over onto his stomach, exposing himself entirely for him. Sousuke accepts this gift gratefully.

He’s on his knees, straddling Otoharu, digging his short, broken nails into his sides, and Otoharu gasps when Sousuke reaches the small of his back. It’s there that he pauses, peppering kisses along his hips as he rubs circles into Otoharu’s bare skin. There’s no fire anymore, no intense passion from the night before. All that remains are burnt embers barely lit, and still there’s a stirring in his chest as he continues.

He doesn’t want to stop. Even after the heat has died down, the feelings remain, and so he trails his lips back up, kissing each muscle with tender care, marveling at the man under him.

Otoharu giggles when Sousuke nibbles at his ear, and he’s suddenly transported twenty years in the past, when they were young and vulnerable and the future was still bright. Before idols and rivalries and jealousy and anger, when they were happy and Musubi was alive.

She had tied them together even as she danced around them, holding them close and keeping them from drifting apart. At the time, Sousuke thought that Musubi was light, and he was drawn to her warmth.

In the present, Otoharu is light. His warmth radiates outward and encompasses him entirely, thawing Sousuke until his heart is bare and his cold exterior has melted.

There’s nothing left of him except the intense need to be closer to Otoharu, the same way he longed to be closer to Musubi—to bathe in their warmth and light. Perhaps it was always that way, but he wouldn’t let himself see it.

“Kiss me,” Otoharu breathes, tickling Sousuke’s cheek. His unkempt hair rustles softly, falling into both of their faces.

“I am.” But Sousuke knows what he wants, and so he grips at Otoharu’s shoulders and holds tight as he leans down, head pressed against Otoharu’s pillow, and kisses him on the lips, his own parted in an invitation for him to take or leave. He’d be satisfied either way.

Otoharu takes the offer and lets his tongue flicks across Sousuke’s lips. It’s quick, almost teasing, and then it’s gone. When he opens his eyes, he’s looking into Otoharu’s. It’s a rare, breathtaking sight, and Sousuke finds he can’t even blink under such a gaze.

His cheeks are flushed and his hair is mussed and the world is still, and Sousuke can’t help but cling tighter to him in an effort to never let him slip away. Because even if they can’t stay like this, even if they will inevitably go back to their own separate worlds, they can still have this right here, right now. They can share these feelings, each touch a promise for another time.

“We should get up.” And Otoharu sounds wistful as he says it, like he can’t stand the idea of leaving this position with naked body pressed against naked body, with hands gripping desperately at his shoulders. “It’s getting late.”

Sousuke knows that reality won’t wait for them. He knows this, knows the importance of time and images and making sure everything looks perfect. Yet he finds himself reluctant to agree, because if they part, if they dress themselves and leave this room, their hideaway from the real world, then things will return to normal.

He thought he could handle that. He’s not so sure anymore. Because there is nothing that waits for him beyond that door but a mountain of regrets.

And here is Otoharu, the only thing he’s not regretted.

He heaves a sigh that blows back Otoharu’s hair, messy chunks falling off his face to expose his forehead. He kisses that newly exposed skin, and then he pushes himself up because they can’t stay like this. Even if they refuse the world someone will find them, and time still exists no matter how much he wishes it didn’t.

He runs a hand through his hair. It’s knotted and tangled and he wishes Otoharu would reach out and play with it like he’d done last night, but they’ve already made their decision.

Otoharu stays in the bed while Sousuke shuffles through their discarded clothing, carefully picking out his own things among the piles. He knows that if he were to wear Otoharu’s shirt home, it would give him an excuse to call that Otoharu wouldn’t turn down. Still, he makes sure he has his own.

“Come here,” Otoharu says as his bare legs dangle off the side of the bed, beckoning him back to him. His hands are outstretched, and Sousuke steps into them, hoping that it will lead to an embrace and knowing that won’t happen. Otoharu runs his hands along Sousuke’s torso, fingers just barely grazing against his skin. The light touch sends shivers down Sousuke’s spine, and he wishes that he would never stop.

The wish isn’t granted and he isn’t surprised, but he graciously accepts Otoharu’s closeness as he takes the shirt in his hands and fastens each button one by one, careful hands trailing up his stomach but never actually touching him.

“When can I see you again?” The question comes out before Sousuke realizes he says it, but this is a room without regrets and so he holds fast to his slip and stands firm in his determination.

There’s a soft smile playing at Otoharu’s lips, but he doesn’t look up from his task. He stands, though, when he gets to the top few buttons, and then they’re leaning against each other with only two hands separating them. “Whenever you want.”

It’s a lie, because if he was telling the truth then Sousuke could say he wants to see him right now and they would lie back down and waste the rest of the day in bed, dancing in the sunbeams that shine through the window. But Otoharu doesn’t stop helping him and doesn’t protest when he pulls his pants on, letting Otoharu tuck in his shirt, his hands lingering just a moment too long on his hips.

He knows the reality of their situation; he’s not an idealist. But still the word spills from his lips before he can stop himself. “Soon.”

“Soon,” Otoharu agrees. There’s no hesitation, and his voice is honey-sweet and warm like the sunshine he’s become to Sousuke.

Before he can pull away, Otoharu’s hands are around his neck, holding him close. He presses his forehead into Sousuke’s, eyes closed, and Sousuke lets his own fall shut as he revels in the moment. It’s quiet, and once again time ceases to exist despite reason telling him that no such thing is possible.

It’s over too soon, but perhaps it lasted longer than he thought. Otoharu pulls away and leaves him with a soft kiss against his cheek, a promise that doesn’t need to be spoken out loud.

There’s nothing more to say; clipped phrases and lingering gazes carry more thoughts than they can put into words. And so Sousuke lets Otoharu’s arms fall from his sides instead of holding them close like he wants to. He lets him slide back down to the bed, one shoulder blindingly bright as the early morning sun streaks across it.

He tugs on one shoe, then the other. He lost his socks, but no one will notice and so he doesn’t even think to look for them.

Then there’s nothing left to say or do. Their time has run out.

Before he can take toward that door behind which lies all his regrets, there’s a hand wrapping around his, threading their fingers together, and Sousuke glances down to see Otoharu there, below him like before and yet completely unlike before, with his other palm outstretched, glasses in hand. “You forgot these.”

Sousuke coughs and grabs them, fixing them on his face before responding. “Thank you.” Otoharu’s smile, one he can finally see clearly, is a gentle promise of a secret future that only they know.

“Have a good day,” he says, voice soft but confident. His hand is warm around Sousuke’s, as if Otoharu is sharing his light with him.

And he thinks that perhaps, even if he’s the only one who knows the truth, even if there’s a million secrets he can never tell, even if he’s drowned by his regrets outside of this little haven, if Otoharu wishes it, he will.

**Author's Note:**

> please ilove papas so mcuh please love papas with me on my twittter [@polythagoras](https://twitter.com/polythagoras)


End file.
